We were sailin' through thee straits o' Bertha, when thee sea began ter be'ave in a strange way. Thee land nearby on either soide were movin' an' shakin', an' the sea moved thee ship in an awful way. Seamen were bein' tossed from soide ter soide, an' oi 'ad ter get most of 'em below decks, as they were in danger o' bein' thrown overboard. Nef Yoo were sent ter boy thee crow's nest, as this would be thee perfect opportunity ter get rid o' thee beggar, but ter no avail. Woe is me an' me crew!

Roland Deschain - Half prophet, half gunslinger, all Pastafarian!

"Since Alexander Pearce escaped, over 250 people have disappeared in the Tasmanian wilderness. No remains have ever been found." - Dying Breed

Ther be logs all over the deck. Deffo not fudge. The cook be makin The Swiss roll.

Cap'n Needsmust Treadworthy

Grand Deducer Watson of Sherlock. NoName, no pack drill. Astral zone changed five times a day (flexible). Great at manifesting parking spaces by thought control. Hatred of terminology of survivors and commitment to win-win reality.

Thee bilge water ran out terday, leadin' ter the situation where there be no food on board me ship. Thee last of thee fish 'ead stoo 'as gone, an' as not one of thee poirates knows 'ow ter make it wi'out thee bilge water, we be stuck. Me croo be starvin', an' me as well, an' they be threatening ter mutiny on me if oi don't lead 'em ter a source o' bilge water. Oi decoided to get out me map ter thee fabled "Fountain o' Bilge Water", what be rumoured ter be somewhere in thee middle of thee Hatlantic ocean. Oi'm 'opin' that me croo be feelin' confident in me cap'n ablities ter foind the oisland it resoides on.

Roland Deschain - Half prophet, half gunslinger, all Pastafarian!

"Since Alexander Pearce escaped, over 250 people have disappeared in the Tasmanian wilderness. No remains have ever been found." - Dying Breed

I can ardlee belheave it...me CE at Bart Hindustries tells me thee bottom has dropped out o thee Fur Lined Underwear Market just as I'd put in a huge order wiv Thee North West Trapping Co!

I moight ave ta go wiv Pieces o Nine's Shrunken Heads after all although bein someone who loiks ta think big I moight suggest a side line in Gyant Easter Island Head garden features wiv hoptshonal water spout.

The smoke wafted gently in the breeze across the poop deck and all seemed right in the world.

There I was hinspectin thee Fish Head Stoo vats at the Factory when in comes this 6 feet tall, long haired dandy wiv a floppy feathered hat and a shirt straight out o Mrs Miggin's Blouse Emporium...I say he came in...actooally he swung in through thee window brandishin his rapier and shoutin "Lock up yer daughters...My names Errol and they're in peril"!

Well this sort o thing has a habit of happenin to me. A few years ago I was just about ta sweep thee King o Spains daughter* of her feet (mostly it was the smell), when Captain Mortenso Haarket sweeps in and nabs her from under me nose (true story).

So I was avin none of of this 'Errol's' himpertinance an I had im clapped in irons on the spot...he keeps mutterin somethin about shrunken heads...I think thee dungeons ave sent im mad.

*When I say the King o Spain's daughter I actually mean Meg the Scrubber from thee docks.

The smoke wafted gently in the breeze across the poop deck and all seemed right in the world.